Sunday, May 22, 2016

Good morning and Welcome! to the Scales of Ma’at for 23May2016: today my Heart is patrolling with the very young Fante di Bastoni (Page of Wands) while the Feather of Truth has sought higher-styled company on the lap of the Regina di Coppa (Queen of Cups.) (Today’s deck is the *Tarocchi Perrin* by Claudio Perrin [Turin, 1865] & ed. by Giordano Berti [this century . . . or so he tells me.] It is a lovely, neat, cleanly printed version of a wonderfully colorful 19th century deck of the finest quality, what else is there to say. *Rinascimento* always puts out fine historical decks.) My Heart has decided to regress today to the “Page state,” and I must say I’m a bit disappointed in myself. Granted, I’m not feeling very motivated today to forge ahead on the Path, but I have a strong inkling that it is simply Monday morning blues, of which I have an acute, aggravated form, the I-Despise-Monday blues. The doctors have sought from the peaks of the Himalayas to the depths of the Mariana Trench for something to relieve my soul-shattering blues, but alas! the only remedy seems to be a humble herb found and overlooked in many corners of the planet, a green, leafy bush whose name I can’t remember. Liberal doses of the herb and complete and total couch rest are prescribed for Mondays, with any thought of Pathwork strictly forbidden. I suffer; I tell you, people, I suffer. (GRIN.) If I’m feeling youthful and creative, as the card suggests, then that is news to me. Perhaps it will come along later in the day – “on verra.” Frankly, I’m feeling of very short shrift this morning, so at least THAT jibes with the Page – he gets pissed quickly, too. But he IS an opportunity to get up and create – happiness or disaster, but he can do either, so it’s up to me. Great. Just what I wanted to hear. {{Sigh.}} 
Well, at least he has the courtesy and some minimal sense of the courtly manner to turn and address the foreign Queen face to face, although his posture does suggest he is leaving (or pouting, but let’s not go there.) The Feather of Truth has found an ample, loving bed on the meaty thighs of the Queen of Cups. I know what the Feather is thinking/feeling; “Truth is Love, Love is Truth” in a kind of sing-song mental voice to a tune that sounds as if it came from Hair! or Godspell. Sometimes the Feather irritates the shit out of me. I AM feeling a lot of Love right now, although the backwash is diminishing. Friday night’s Male Bonding Festival went like gangbusters on a rare level; real, honest, sustained emotional contact among men in a social situation, a camaraderie that lasted the entire evening. On top of it, the stretch was good; the birthday boy at 22, the mutual friend in his early 30’s, and then the jump to “Grandpa’s Tagging Along” (me, Grin) at 64. (But I was desired company, so there. LOL) The only thing missing was the middle-aged perplexed jerk, and by mutual accord there was not one present. It was a wonderful evening of what boiled down to be nothing but a big fest of brotherly Love. It was fuckin’ great! The weekend was spent recovering (and I don’t drink!) and today the emotional backwash has settled into contented marshwater, “waiting for the mangroves of memory to grow,” . . . (Ahahaha! I couldn’t resist unloading that cheap crappy line!! It was the writer’s equivalent of a fart.) The Truth behind all the fun I’m having with this, the kernel I don’t wish to address for fear it may disappear, is that I experienced a total, loving event when I really needed it, IN THE WAY THAT I NEEDED IT. As you know I’m bi, (if you don’t know, you’ve been reading these posts with blinders on!) so male company means a great deal to me (and no, get your depraved neuron-net out of the gutter) in terms of fulfilling an emotional NEED. It was filled to overflowing, and I still feel good 3 days later. Frankly, I don’t care what message the Queen may be carrying for me today, just seeing her here confirms the “goodness” and the “rightness” of my emotional state, and ALSO is giving me the lesson that if I feel this good because of the experience, then shouldn’t I recreate it for others as often as possible as widely as possible? Not as a full-time profession, of course, but kept on a backburner, constantly in a gentle simmer, waiting for employment when appropriate. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty, thank you.” That’s it; it’s Monday, I’m not feeling prolix, and the reading is, basically, “Clear skies ahead with a chance of intermittent brusque breezes and warm, comfortable temperatures the entire day.” I ask the Cosmos today to give us ALL just a little bit of downtime for a triple S (military slang: “a shit, shower and shave.”) Be Well! – As for me, I feel couch paralysis coming on . . . .    

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